The Illusion
I am drawn to you
Like a moth to a flame
And fear I might
Just get burned.
But I am more than fascinated
I am addicted and
No longer in control of
The urges you create.
What is this face presented to
The world versus the one
That only we can see?
Which is real, you or me?
So I sit in the near dark
And sip my wine thinking of you.
I wonder to myself
Are you the answer or the question?